


In a World Where You Exist

by llrstyb



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Fitzsimmons Endgame - Freeform, awkward love triangles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-03
Updated: 2017-06-03
Packaged: 2018-11-08 10:17:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11079540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/llrstyb/pseuds/llrstyb
Summary: "Traveling through the portal is just as terrible as it had been the first time - all nausea and loss of any sense of stability or control as the fabric of space-time bends and molds around them. But this time at least, Jemma can take a small comfort in feeling Fitz’s and Will’s hands wrapped tightly around her own."When Jemma is rescued from Maveth, Will is saved along with her. Fitz doesn’t know (well, no one really knows) how to deal with the situation.





	In a World Where You Exist

**Author's Note:**

> I've been on an AOS binge-rewatch and this plot bunny wouldn't leave me alone. This is my take on how I think it would have gone down had WIll survived and returned to Earth.

Trying to see through a solid wall of dust, Jemma mutters, “Come on, Will, where are you?” She can hear Fitz desperate calls in the background, a sweet voice enticing her back to paradise, but she can’t just leave Will behind, not after everything.

 

Suddenly, a warm hand that she’s become so accustomed to these past few months envelops hers, and when her mind finally catches up to her adrenaline-fueled body, she realizes that they’re already both running towards Fitz. She sees Fitz the exact moment he sees her, the shock displayed on his face at seeing another person by her side, and he’s stunned still for a moment before getting back to desperately calling her name and stretching his hand out for her to grasp.

 

With her left hand tightly holding onto Will’s, with all her might she grasps for Fitz with her right. For one terrifyingly aching moment, _I won’t be able to reach him_ goes through her thoughts but she stubbornly pushes it away and fights even harder to grasp onto him, her lifeline, her best friend, the most important person in the world. The wind and sand keep trying to push her and Will back as if the planet itself does not want to let them go. Feeling her muscles strain with the effort, Jemma gives one final desperate push and latches onto Fitz’s hand.

 

Traveling through the portal is just as terrible as it had been the first time - all nausea and loss of any sense of stability or control as the fabric of space-time bends and molds around them. But this time at least, Jemma can take a small comfort in feeling Fitz’s and Will’s hands wrapped tightly around her own, anchoring her to her body, so she doesn’t completely lose herself in the process. Before she knows it, she’s in some gray well surrounded by, what is probably, pieces of the portal; one found its way into her mouth, and the ashy taste makes her spit it out immediately.

 

It takes a moment to sink in but, she’s back. She’s…actually back.

 

Inhaling and then exhaling slowly to keep herself from going into hysterics and hyperventilating at the overwhelming incredulity stirring through her, Jemma leans her head on the shoulder of the only person who can possibly understand what she is experiencing. “Oh, Will,” she breathes against his chest, “we’re home.” Kissing the top of her head and grasping her hand even tighter in his own, he says, “I…didn’t think this day would ever come.”

 

Feeling Fitz freeze on her other side and his hand fall out of hers, she turns to look at him, but he avoids her eyes and starts to stand up, craning up his neck. “Little help in here would be great.”

 

Jemma finally looks up and sees her team standing around them peering down in shock and relief. Mack is the first to start moving. “Right, yeah.” He gives Jemma a relieved smile – a brilliant smile that even in her shell-shocked state she can’t help but return – and starts working on getting them out.

 

**********

 

The entire journey back to base is a blur of white noise, passing colors, and buzzing in her ears. And no matter how much Jemma wants to move or say anything, she can’t. She only peripherally notices that her hand is still holding onto Will’s - who seems to be going through the same symptoms of shock as she is - and the outline of Fitz sitting in one of the corners next to Daisy. If Jemma were a better, less selfish person, she’d find the energy to get up and go over to him to at least say thank you for rescuing her. To hug him as she’d dreamed of doing for so many months now. But she’s not a better person because she can’t find the energy to move even her hands, let alone say or do anything. All she can do is not forget to breathe, and even that’s a chore. With every breath that she inhales, so different from the heavy Maveth air, she’s once again hit with the realization that she’s back.

 

The rational, educated part of her brain supplies that she’s just in shock and this will wear off soon but until then she’ll just…continue to breathe in and out.

 

***********

 

The tiny rhythmic beeping is the first thing to catch her attention. Feeling as if there is an abundance of fog all around and seeping through her, it takes a while for her to place the noise as belonging to an equipment monitoring her vitals. Trying to clear the fog away, Jemma groggily opens her eyes. For a moment, there’s blind panic as she looks around and doesn’t recognize the familiar nature-made walls of the cave from Maveth but instead only sees a sterilized white ceiling and symmetrical glass. She squints, the lights too bright, and looks around in blind panic before her eyes settle on Will’s sleeping form in the bed next to hers and exhales slowly, the images of the rescue flooding back into her mind. Right. The rescue. That happened.

 

In the too bright room, she studies his face. The exhaustion of fourteen years in isolation are even more evident under the fluorescent lights, all the worry-wrinkles and eye bags, every scratch and bruise, is on display for her to bear witness to whereas on Maveth they were hidden in shadows and moons. “Oh, Will,” she mutters sympathetically, once again overcome with sheer wonder that someone had been able to survive such tragedy for so long. She tries to reach for him, but the IV attached to her stings at the movement, so she pulls back and lies back down on the pillow.

 

Looking around and passingly realizing that she’s in the quarantine area, Jemma stills when she sees Fitz on the other side of the glass. She looks at him, and there’s a deep-set grimness to his face as he looks down at the floor with his arms crossed over himself and shoulders hunched. It’s often rare that she can’t make out what her best friend is thinking but with heartbreaking clarity, she realizes that this was one of those times.

 

“Fitz.” Jemma barely murmurs the name, so she’s surprised to see his head snap up.

 

The steely and harsh lines on his face disappear as he looks at her, replaced with a softness and a small smile. “Jemma. It’s good to see you’re awake.”

 

Seeing his relieved smile, Jemma can’t help but smile herself. She tries to get up to move closer to the glass wall, to him, but the lights and the incessant beeping are all giving her an incredible migraine and her head once again hits the pillow.

 

“Hey, none of that now.” Fitz’s says gently. “You were dehydrated and malnourished and need to rest.”

 

“Speaking of rest, how long have I been out,” Jemma asks.

 

“Twelve hours.”

 

“Twelve hours, huh.” Jemma closes her eyes, suddenly overcome with her first twelve hours on Maveth. The memory of the desperation, hopelessness, and despair she felt all hit her at once. How every minute dragged on for an eternity, waiting for Fitz to appear at any moment to whisk her back home, only to lose hope bit by bit, hour by hour. Tears burn at the back of her eyes. “It’s interesting, how much or how little can happen in twelve hours.”

 

Fitz doesn’t say anything. What is there to say to something like that? She doesn’t look at him to see his expression, afraid that once again she would be unable to decipher what he was feeling.

 

Suddenly, Jemma jerks up into a seating position and turns to look at Fitz with wide eyes, which in retrospect was not a good idea seeing as stars started to swim in front of her eyes and the fog once again threatened to drag her down to unconsciousness.

 

“Jemma!” Fitz steps closer, nose almost touching the glass separating them. “Jemma, are you okay?”

 

“Huh? Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just that, I can’t believe that I forgot to say this,” She looks at him and sees the worry written all over his face. “Thank you, Fitz.”

 

Fitz shrugs and looks down. “It was nothing, really.”

 

Jemma gives an incredulous laugh. “Are you kidding me? Nothing? Fitz, you jumped through a hole in the universe for me. It’s been months, and you hadn’t given up on me. You found me. Even when I was on the other side of the damn universe, you still found me. That’s…everything.”

 

Fitz gives a shy shrug, but his lips are quirked up in a small smile. “You’d do the same for me.”

 

“Yeah,” Jemma says, not even having to stop for a second to think about it. “Yeah, I would.”

 

“And, um,” Fitz clears his throat, suddenly breaking eye contact with Jemma. “Seems like I didn’t just save you.”

 

Turning around to look at Will, still sleeping peacefully, Jemma smiles and softly says. “Yeah, I guess so.” She studies him. It was worth it, she thinks. At that moment, she realizes that if the outcome of her going through that portal is the salvation of a man who’d been trapped on an isolated, hostile planet for over a decade, then it was worth it. The thought that he would have withered away there all on his own, or if he’d finally reached a breaking point and really did use that one last bullet, it was just…horrifying.

 

“We, um, we’ve been calling him John Doe. Though I’m guessing that’s not his name.”

 

“Will,” Jemma says turning back around to look at Fitz, who was still looking down at his feet again. “Will Daniels. An astronaut. He’d been on that planet for fourteen years.”

 

“Oh.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Quite far for an astronaut to journey to.”

 

“Yeah. Quite far for anyone to journey to,” she replies.

 

There’s a heavy silence, and Jemma doesn’t know what to do with it.

 

“So-” Jemma starts, but before she can continue, Fitz finally looks up from the ground and all in one breath, so fast that she almost misses it, says, “Are you in love with him?” His eyes are blown wide open with fear and the kind of raw vulnerability that people learn to hide – everyone except Fitz it seems.

 

Jemma doesn’t reply for a long time, processing how best to go about it, but she knows that she could never lie to Fitz, that she will always only choose to be completely honest with him, so she simply says, “Yes.”

 

She catches his eyes for a moment, now glassy with unshed tears, before he breaks eye contact and turns around, shoulders shaking.

 

Seeing the tears in his eyes, Jemma let out a whimper. “Oh God, Fitz, I’m so sorry, I never meant to hurt you, I just, I-” How can she even go about explaining it? About the circumstances that led to her and Will. How can one describe the mindset of almost falling into absolute despair and having a person there to catch you before you go over the edge? A person who experienced the same exact sense of doom and finality as she did that day when she had been so close but then have to stand hopelessly useless as the portal closed. But she couldn’t explain all of that, didn’t know how, so she just kept repeating, with tears streaming down her face, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

 

“Jemma, Jemma, look at me, okay. I need you to look at me.” Fitz’s hands are pressed up against the walls. “It’s okay. You have nothing to apologize for.” When she finally looks at him, eyes bloodshot and face blotchy, he exhales down in relief. “I’m okay. Just…just get some rest okay?”

 

She nods, not trusting herself to speak.

 

“I’m sorry,” Fitz says. “I shouldn’t have asked that yet. You’re just now getting acclimated to being back.”

 

“Don’t apologize. You’re not the one who should be apologizing. I hurt you. I know.”

 

“Jemma…you don’t own me anything. You know that, right?”

 

“I owed you dinner.” She tries to smile, but even she can tell it that it doesn’t reach her eyes. “I’m sorry, I’m late.”

 

“Yeah, well, maybe someday.” Fitz tries to smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes either.

 

A loud bang, as if simultaneously a thousand shotguns had gone off, echoes through the room and rattles Jemma to the bones. Feeling as if her skull is about to split open from the sound vibrations, she hides under the blanket, hands shaking and heart pumping ferociously. 

 

“Get out of here,” she can hear Fitz distantly barking at someone. Peeking out from under the covers, she can see a frazzled agent picking up scattered items from the floor and placing them on a metal tray, all the while apologizing profusely to Fitz and shooting apologetic glances at Jemma. Metal tray. Of course, that’s what it was. Feeling blood rush to her cheeks, Jemma curses her cowardice.

 

Slowly getting back up from under the covers after her highly unprofessional over-reaction - she is a SHIELD agent after all dammit - Jemma’s about to call Fitz when Will wakes up with a gasp. Breathing harshly and looking around worriedly, Will says, “What the hell was that?” A pause, then, “And where the hell are we even?”

 

“It’s alright,” Jemma says, smiling at him in a comforting gesture. “Just some clumsy agent, is all. And we’re in quarantine right now. The team probably wanted to make sure we don’t have any alien diseases or something. I’m sure we’ll be out soon.”

 

“Actually that’s what I had come over to tell you,” Fitz says as he walks back over to them, the poor agent who got yelled at nowhere to be seen. “You’ll be moved to the regular med bay today. You’re both as healthy as can be, at least considering the, you know…circumstances.”

 

Smiling brightly, Jemma says, “Thank you. And I’m sorry. That was ridiculous. I shouldn’t have freaked out like that.” Glancing at Will who smiles at her and reaches over to run his hand over her forearm in comfort, she continues, “We’re just a little sensitive to noise right now it seems.”

 

“Yes, well, that’s certainly understandable.” Fitz is looking everywhere but at the two of them. “I should go. I have a lot of work to do, and you two have a lot to…catch up on.”

 

Watching Fitz retreating figure, Jemma fights the urge to call out to him. But then what would she do? What can she say that would lessen his discomfort? So she just sits there, looking through the stainless glass as he turns the corner and disappears.

 

She doesn’t know how long she sits like that, staring at the spot where he was until a soft bump against her shoulder shakes her out of her haze. “Jemma,” Will says faintly, and as she turns to look at him, there’s sadness in his eyes and resignation on his lips.

 

************

Two weeks since waking up on Earth.

 

Ten days since she’s had a conversation with Fitz that lasted for longer than a couple of minutes.

 

Four days since she’s even seen him (a one-second glance before he turned the corner doesn’t count).

 

Jemma is close to going crazy and, after constantly worrying about what to do next and how best to approach Fitz, decides that the best course of action would be to take a walk around the base to try to clear her mind.

 

She could, of course, go outside, and Daisy had even offered to tag along and keep her company if needed, but going outside brought back flashes of almost choking on heavy sandstorms, of sleeping on the cold, hard ground of an unfamiliar planet and looking up at the open sky with many moons and just feeling so damn overwhelmed at the sheer scope of unfamiliarity and feeling of displacement.

 

Sometimes, in those moments when she’d look up at the Maveth sky, she had thoughts that she’d died – that the portal had not been a portal at all, just an intricate death machine – and now her soul existed in some messed up state of limbo. During those moments she’d needed Will the most. She’d lay her head against his chest and listen to his heartbeat and repeat over and over that she was alive and that it was real; he was real; she was real.

 

Smiling at the memory, Jemma leisurely walks along the corridors, side-stepping any frazzled agents that seem like they are in a hurry, Jemma looks around and soaks in the feeling of being home; the memories are like rays of sunlight that she dreamed about on Maveth and they seep into her skin in comfort.

 

Somehow, she ends up outside a familiar room and snickers a little to herself – even when she doesn’t make a conscious effort to go to the lab, that’s still where she ends up, like a magnet that pulls her in. Stepping closer, she looks around to see if Fitz is in here, and the thought causes her heart to race in anticipation, what will she say to him? He had certainly made it clear that he has nothing to say to her.

 

Jemma almost walks in when the noise of fast approaching footsteps and two people loudly arguing alarms her. In a panic, she runs down the corridor to hide behind the wall.

 

She looks around the corner and sees Fitz walk into the labs followed by an exasperated Daisy.

 

“All I’m saying is, maybe if you talked to her about all of this instead of avoiding her like you have been doing this entire time-”

 

“Okay,” Fitz says with an edge to his voice. “let’s say that I do talk to her. What would I say? Trust me the last thing she needs right now is me babbling about my feelings, feelings that she already knows about, by the way!”

 

“Look,” Daisy says in a tired voice. “All I know is that she has been sulking around looking miserable and every time I go to pay her a visit, the first thing she does is ask about you. And then I have to make up some lame excuse about you being busy.”

 

“I have been busy!”

 

“Busy enough that you can’t even spare a moment to visit her? She needs you, Fitz. Don’t you understand that?”

 

Hearing a crash, Jemma flinches back, the noise still too much to her sensitive ears, before steeling her nerves and carefully approaching to get a better view of what happened. Jemma really shouldn’t be eavesdropping like this, she knows, but the desperation of getting even the tiniest glimpse into Fitz’s feelings is too much of a temptation.

 

Looking around she sees a computer on the ground with the screen cracked, as if someone had knocked it off the counter. And then she notices Fitz – arms pressed against the table, head hanging low, and shoulders shaking. And then his hands. Bleeding profusely. Fitz hands, softer than even her own that should never have blood on them. She almost runs out to him but steps back at the last minute; the last person Fitz wants to see right now is her. He has made that abundantly clear on multiple occasions.

 

“I can’t! Okay?! I just can’t!” She hears him shouting, but it’s distant to her ears as if she’s surrounded by water and the sound is distorted; all her focus is still on his hands. The blood has now made its way down his fingertips, and droplets keep falling on the ground.

 

“The woman I love is in love with some bloody Mr. Perfect astronaut. And it hu-” his throat gets stuck on the words, and he chokes back a sob. Daisy comes closer and gently wraps a cloth around his hand. “It hurts so much that sometimes I can’t look at her. And I hate myself so much for that; you don’t even know.”

 

“It’s okay,” Daisy says, coming closer to wrap a cloth around his hand gently. “I’m sorry I pushed you.”

 

“I should be happy for her.” Fitz goes on with red-rimmed eyes. “I should but I can’t. I’m so damn selfish. He makes her laugh. I see the way she looks at him, and an ugly part of me hates him because I’ve wished so long that she would look at me like that. He saved her life. He helped her through something unimaginable, and I hate him.”

 

“That’s only natural, Fitz,” Daisy says, but he shakes his head in disagreement.

 

“A few days ago, I saw them walking out of her - their room - side by side and he said something and her eyes just lit up like a Christmas tree, and she laughed so hard that she almost doubled over. At that moment I-” Fitz lets out a gasp and buries his head in his hands to let out a shuddering breath before continuing. “At that moment, I wished that he had never made it back.”

 

Daisy looks close to tears herself as Fitz falls to the floor and curls up his knees to his chest.

 

Jemma doesn’t stay long enough to see him break down even more but as she makes her way back to her room, she can hear his sobs echoing through the hall and striking her heart, gut, back, arms, legs, skull. Each broken gasp from him is a whip across her skin, leaving a bloody gaping wound. By the time she finally makes it back to her room, there are a thousand lash marks on her skin, and she’s nothing but mangled flesh and a broken heart.

 

Will is already asleep on his side of the bed, the same side he slept on in their cot on Maveth. Hiccupping to hold back tears, she gently closes the door as not to wake him. 

 

Sliding down the door, Jemma huddles on the floor. If she had known that the price of her rescue would cause Fitz so much agony, she never would have wished for her salvation. She would have damn herself to a hundred lifetimes on Maveth if it meant never hearing Fitz break down in such a way again.

 

Darkness overtakes her, and it’s a welcome reprieve from his cries rattling in her brain.

 

 

*******

“I’ve been selfish.”

 

“Huh?” Jemma turns to look at Will. He’s sitting at the foot of the bed with his head in his hands. It must be close to midnight now, and she’s already in bed, close to dozing off, or at least close to trying to doze off. The quiet around them reminds her of their countless nights on Maveth where their voices were the only things filling the air. Except that this time, Fitz sobbing is a nonstop echoing in her head that she can’t tune out of no matter how much she tries.

 

“It’s been weeks, Jemma,” Will says, still fully dressed, and in a jacket.

 

“Weeks?”

 

“It’s been weeks since you’ve had a conversation with Fitz that lasted longer than 2 minutes and included anything other than ‘how are you?’ and ‘I’m fine.’”

 

“Fitz and I…we just need time to adjust, I guess.” Jemma can feel tears prickling at her eyes because even as she says it, she’s not sure if it’s true – at least not if things remain as they are.

 

“Remember what we promised each other? That we would always look out for and do what’s best for each other?”

 

Jemma nods, studying Will’s face. She remembers the night of that conversation well. It had been colder than usual, and Jemma couldn’t stop shivering. Finally, she had given in and curled up next to him. It was before they had started a relationship; before she had given up all hope of coming home - of being with Fitz. Curled up in each others arms to preserve heat - that’s when they made the promise.

 

“So yes, I’ve been selfish. I’ve been putting this off and maybe a part of me was hoping you’d be content with what we have together. But I wake up this morning to find you curled up asleep by the door, and then you walk around all day as if someone has sucked every ounce of happiness and _life_ out of you.”

 

“What are you getting at?” Jemma asks, though deep down she already knows what he means; perhaps she’s just stalling for time. Perhaps she just doesn’t know what else to say. Perhaps she’s just drained of hurting everyone.

 

“Jemma.” In the quiet of the night, his voice sounds broken. “You’re in love with him.”

 

And there she goes – continuing to hurt everyone.

 

“Yes.” She can’t bear to look at him, so she turns her gaze to the ceiling, a lone tear making its way down her cheek. “And I also love you.”

 

“I love you, too.”

 

The lone tear is joined by another, and together they fall down her face and hit the pillow.

 

“I love you so much, and the thought of losing you is terrifying. But…” Will’s voice is shaky, as are his hands. The always dependable and strong Will, the one who never wavered and kept her grounded in a world defined by instability and madness, that man was shaking because of her. How many times will she hurt people, Jemma wonders. How much more misery will be caused by her?

 

“But I’ve already lost you haven’t I.” It may be phrased like a question, but they both know it’s not. It’s just a simple fact. “On a planet where Fitz exists, I don’t stand a chance. The second you heard his voice calling your name, and I saw your face light up, I knew I had lost you forever.”

 

“I’m sorry.” So many tears now dance down her face. Her eyes are an ocean of bitter salt water.

 

“No. don’t do that. Don’t apologize to me.”

 

“How can I not?”

 

“Because you saved my life. You gave me a second chance. And you…before I had met you, I had never loved anyone.”

 

Jemma gives a self-deprecating light chuckle, even if her heart may be anything but light. “Well, I didn’t exactly have a lot of competition, did I?”

 

He shakes his head fondly and laughs quietly. “Even before that, Jemma. Back when I was young and wild, and life was full of possibilities, even back then I never fell in love with anyone because-”

 

“Because you always thought there’d be time for that later.” Jemma finished for him absentmindedly, remembering one of their conversations. “I guess you were right about that.”

 

The light chuckle that he gives makes Jemma smile, glad that she can at least lift his spirits a little, even if it’s only for a second, even if it’s only one last time.

 

“Where does this leave us now?” Jemma asks, hating to be responsible for the heavy tension settling back into the room but not knowing what else to do.

 

“I’m leaving tonight.”

 

Jemma closes her eyes. Her heart is the planet and asteroids are impacting from all sides.

 

“I’m sorry, Jemma. But it’s too painful living in the same place as the woman that I love and the man that that woman loves.”

 

“I understand.” A beat. “Where will you go?”

 

“I have some distant family out West. And then…” Will gives a cool shrug and a hint of the kind of smile that made him look younger and freer. Jemma imagined that that’s what he looked like before Maveth. All cheerful and reckless, the world to journey through and experience in front of him; precisely the kind of guy who would have made a much younger Jemma stutter and blush. “Where ever the wind takes me. I’ve got years’ worth of catching up to do.”

 

“Don’t be too much of a troublemaker though,” Jemma teases him with a light smile. She feels lighter now, some of the overwhelming guilt that was drowning her lifted as she realizes that Will is going to be okay. She may have broken his heart, but he’ll be okay.

 

“For you, I’ll try.” Walking around the side of the bed, Will lightly brushes his lips against her forehead. “Goodbye, my voice of hope.”

 

He’s about to walk away, but Jemma catches his arm and, standing up to envelop him in a hug, whispers in his ear, “I want you to know that you weren’t my voice of doom. Those were some of the darkest moments of my life, and you were my voice of hope and safety and love.”

 

Will leans back, taking her in for one last time before his lips ghost over hers. “Thank you.”

 

He’s almost by the door when he turns around and says, with a small smile and unshed tears, “Fitz is one lucky man. I hope you don’t torture him, and yourself for that matter, too long and tell him how much he means to you already.”

 

And then Jemma watches him walk away and without even realizing it, a smile adorns her face.

 

*********

Taking a deep breath, Jemma gathers up every ounce of courage that she has. Will had left yesterday night, and Jemma spent the entire morning pacing back and forth, trying to figure out the best way to approach Fitz. Logically, she understands that she should give him some space, and maybe she’s being selfish, no scratch that, she knows she’s being selfish, but she can’t leave him alone any longer. She needs her best friend back now. She needs the person she loves back now. 

 

Setting her mind and mumbling a quick ‘you can do this,' Jemma tears open the room door and marches down the familiar path to the labs, a woman on a mission. Afraid that at any moment she’ll lose her nerve, she speeds up her steps but halts when a familiar voice calls her name.

 

She spins around to see Daisy leaning against the wall with her arms crossed and a knowing smirk on her lips. “Looking for Fitz?”

 

“How’d you know?”

 

Daisy lifts her brow up in a ‘ _do you even need to ask that?’_ sort of way.

 

“Right. Would you happen to know where he went?”

 

Daisy tilts her head to the side. “Saw him go that way a few minutes ago.”

 

She barely finishes her sentence when Jemma starts sprinting, yelling a quick, “Thank you!” over her shoulder.

 

Hearing Daisy’s chuckle, she rounds the corner and, not seeing that someone’s standing right there, smacks head first into a solid body.

 

Staggering back, she rubs her forehead.

 

“Wha-?!” Fitz exclaims, turning around to see who unceremoniously crashed into them. Jemma catches the second where his face falls, and a pained expression dons his face as he realizes it’s her before he can compose himself. A coffee stain dots his shirt, and he’s holding a now half-empty mug. “Jemma.”

 

“Fitz.” All her pep talk flies right out of her brain, and she’s left standing there, gaping at him and not saying a word of the intricately planned speech that she had planned and repeated in her head hundreds of times.

 

Finally, she settles on: “I’m guessing that’s my fault.” She points to the cup, sheepishly. “Sorry.”

 

“It was too sweet anyway,” he mumbles.

He looks at her and seeing that she’s not saying anything, Fitz scratches his head in discomfort and shuffles back and forth. This is the closest Jemma has been to him in weeks, and yet there’s still such a distance between them. Jemma purses her lips but doesn’t move any closer.

 

“I’m glad to see you’re here.”

 

Eyes widening in shock, she looks at him; there’s still discomfort coloring his entire persona, but there’s also a shining sincerity in his eyes and, oh god, how she has missed him looking at her like that– with all his intensity and joy.

 

“You are?” she asks. His words threw her off-balance, and, forgetting all about personal space, she takes cautious steps toward him.

 

His hands clasped in front of him in a remorseful manner, and with a small smile, says, “Yeah. I wanted to apologize to you.”

 

“You did?”

 

“I’m so sorry that I’ve been…” Fitz’s face scrunches up in adorable frustration trying to find the right word; Jemma had to hold back a small smile. “Absent lately. I was just-”

 

“It’s okay!” Jemma says with a smile on her face. “I forgive you. There’s nothing even to forgive.”

 

“No,” Fitz shakes his head stubbornly. “There is a lot to forgive. I was self-centered and a complete bloody idiot. My best friend needed me, and I was too busy being-” Jemma’s face lights up brightly at the word, and he stops mid-apology to look at her in question, “What?”

 

“It’s just nice hearing you call me your best friend again.”

 

“As long as you’ll have me.” Fitz smiles at her warmly, and that warmth travels directly to her stomach and quells all her anxieties.

 

“So always then,” she says and throws her arms around him in a bone-crushing hug.

 

Fitz lets out an “oomph” and staggers back before wrapping his arms around her waist and slightly lifting her off the ground. “I missed you so much,” he whispers in her ear.

 

“Me too,” she whispers back.

 

Settling her on the ground, and letting go, Fitz face suddenly looks somber as he takes a step back. “Um, by the way, where’s Will?”

 

“What?” Jemma asks; she swears she's getting emotional whiplash from all this back and forth.

 

“Where’s Will. I have to apologize to him, too.”

The inquiring look she gives him is enough to prompt him to continue. With a resigned sigh, he says, “You’re not the only one I’ve been avoiding. In fact, I think I’ve been actively making it uncomfortable for him.”

 

Giving a light chuckle, Jemma says, “Yeah, he did mention some not so stealthy death glares coming from you.”

 

Fitz blushes slightly and avoids her eyes. “Yeah.” When she doesn’t say anything else, Fitz clears his throat lightly and says, “So…do you know where he is. An apology kind of only works if the person is actually here. Besides, I also owe him a thank you. He kept you safe when I couldn’t.”

 

“Oh, don’t worry about it. Will knows that you didn’t mean any malice. Besides,” Jemma adds as an afterthought. “He’s already gone. Maybe on the other side of the country by now.” The thought fills her with warmth; he mentioned that he had some family he was going to visit; she hopes he got to them okay.

 

“Wait, what?” Every muscle in his body has gone rigid, and he’s looking at her in shock.

 

“What?” She asks, brows furrowing in confusion. She eyes his hand, in a white-knuckled grip, as if it were an alien specimen.

 

“He’s just gone?”

 

Jemma nods slowly. She knew the topic of Will suddenly leaving would have come up eventually, but she didn’t think that this is where the conversation would have gone; she though Fitz might even take it as good news, even. Instead, his eyes look like pure ice that could at any moment start shooting out deadly icicles at anyone in proximity.

 

“Are you okay?” she asks him.

 

“Are you kidding me, am I okay?” He’s glaring at her now, but at least she’s no longer in danger of being shot at with icicles – now Fitz’s eyes are just filled with disbelief. “Are _you_ okay?”

 

Again, she just nods slowly.

 

“I can’t believe he would do that!” he exclaims.

 

“Fitz, it’s okay.” She steps closer to him to try to place a comforting hand on his shoulder, but he shrugs her off and glares at her. So now he is mad at her. Lovely.

 

“How is any of that okay,” he throws his hands up in the air as if he can’t believe what he is hearing. “You love him and he just, he just…packs up and leaves?!” There’s disgust in the way he says ‘leaves,’ as if it’s a word to be spat out.

 

“Fitz-” Jemma says, trying to calm him down.

 

“No! Don’t try to deny it. You love him, and as soon as he’s back on Earth, he just disappears on you!”

 

She knows that this will only escalate the situation, but she can’t help but give a little protest and say, “well, technically, it wasn’t as soon as he got back on Earth. It’s been a couple of solid weeks now.”

 

Fitz glares at her. “Oh, a couple of weeks! How noble of him.”

 

Jemma purses her lips in frustration. “Look, it’s complicated, okay.”

 

“Where did he go?”

 

“Whyyy do you want to know that exactly?” she asks slowly.

 

“Just tell me where that selfish bastard went so that I can-”

 

“So that you can do what, Fitz? Throw a punch at him?” When he doesn’t reply, Jemma rolls her eyes and sighs. “Honestly, Fitz. Stop being so overdramatic.”

 

“Overdramatic?!” Fitz yells in a manner that honestly seems overdramatic to Jemma’s eyes. “I know that love makes people foolish, trust me I know, but this is ridiculous. I can’t believe you’re defending him! Oh, what a stand-up guy! He stayed for a whole two weeks before ditching!”

 

“Fitz.” She tries to interject again to no avail as Fitz is just a tank on a mission to overrun her every word.

 

“And I bet you didn’t even try to stop him. Always the kind Jemma, never wanting to hurt anyone’s feelings.” His voice is trembling with each word. “Is that why…”

 

Jemma looks at him in question.

 

“Is that why you didn’t leave your room all day? Because you were crying over him?”

 

Truthfully, it had been because she was gathering her courage to come here, to talk to him, but it’s not like he’s going to let her get a word in now. And she also feels a little bubble of joy building in her stomach at seeing that Fitz was aware of her actions all day, even when he had been ignoring her, she was still on his radar.

 

“And here I thought you two were just…you know…doing coupley things.” He says and waves his hands around awkwardly. Jemma blushes slightly and looks down.

 

“Bloody hell,” he says and rubs his eyes as if in exhaustion. “I can’t believe you spent the entire day crying over him. And I can’t believe that he would just-”

 

Seeing that Fitz was about to go on another meaningless anger tirade, Jemma finally just blurts out, “He left because I’m in love with you, Fitz.” And then promptly closes her mouth in shock, as her heart starts beating at 200 bpm. She knows that’s scientifically impossible, but it’s certainly what it feels like, hammering away in her chest as she stares wide-eyed at Fitz who stares wide-eyed back. This is not how she had practiced her speech. Looking around self-consciously, Jemma hopes none of her coworkers can overhear the conversation.

 

“What?” He finally manages to choke out.

 

Closing her eyes in surrender, Jemma nods. There’s no point in trying to take it back now. And, really, why should she take it back? Sure, it wasn’t the fairytale confession she was hoping to make, but at least now it’s out there, and she can stop gnawing at herself with worry over how to confess.

 

“I love you, Fitz. And not just as my best friend, even though you’ll always be that to me first and foremost. Will knew that. Do you know what his exact words were? He said he knew that in a world where you exist, he’d never stand a chance. And I knew in my heart that it was the truth. I’ve always known. But, you know me, I’m not good at the whole emotional stuff. It’s never made sense to me. Not the way science has.”

 

Taking a deep breath, Jemma tentatively places both of her palms on his cheeks and looking into his shocked, but hopeful eyes puts every ounce of love and sincerity and love into her own. “You are the man that I love, Fitz.”

 

“You,” Jemma wipes a stray tear that falls down his face. “Love me?”

 

“I know it wasn’t as dramatic as your confession, though I don’t think I would want to recreate the circumstances that led to that…” she trails off with a smile.

 

Fitz gives a weepy chuckle before his hands are once again pressed around the flesh of her waist (she’s _really_ starting to like that, she’ll have to tell him to do it more often), except this time instead of crushing her in a hug, he gathers her against him and slowly, with plenty of time for Jemma to back away if she wants, presses his lips against hers. Jemma reciprocates immediately, running her hands through his hair, down his neck, and settling on the nape of his shoulder-blades.

 

As far as kisses go…well, it’s pretty damn fantastic, isn’t it, Jemma thinks to herself. His lips are as soft as she’d always imagined, though he does kiss with more of a roughness than she expected (not that she minds it. Not. At. All.)

 

Intensifying the kiss, Fitz presses himself even closer to Jemma, and they start walking, or more like stumbling, backward until Jemma’s back hits the wall. Trailing soft, open-mouthed kisses down her neck pausing for a moment over her pulse, the hot breath against her neck sends a wave pleasure through her; Fitz’s hands shake where he grips her tight.

 

But suddenly, Jemma’s pulse is rushing, and not from the pleasure, but from panic as her mind catches up with what she’s doing and she starts analyzing that this is not how this was supposed to go. She never meant for things to get this far, this fast. Before things get too heated, she pulls back slightly and whispers a soft, “wait” against his lips.

 

Immediately, Fitz disentangles himself from her and, taking all the heat with him, takes a step back. “Sorry,” he says breathless, eyes glassy and dilated with arousal. “Sorry. I didn’t mean for things-”

 

Of course, she has to go and be the one to ruin their first kiss, Jemma chides herself and internally cringes.

 

“No, no, no.” She quickly rushes back towards him and places her hand on his cheek. “Don’t apologize. I’m the one who’s sending mixed signals here.”

 

Fitz's face is still flushed. He doesn’t reach for her, but he does relax under her touch.

 

“It’s just that I…Look this is all still new and…” Jemma takes a deep breath to calm herself.

 

“It’s okay,” Fitz says, nodding at her encouragingly to continue.

 

“I’m so, so sorry. That was our first kiss and I just completely ruined it.” Jemma whispers sadly, not able to meet his eyes.

 

“What? No, no, Jemma it’s fine. You didn’t ruin anything,” Fitz takes her hand in his and gently traces it before suddenly dropping it and mumbling a quick apology.

 

She grabs his hand right back, and he gives her a small smile. “The point that I’m trying to make in an incredibly inarticulate way is that I need some time.”

 

“Of course,” Fitz says, and there’s such complete understanding on his face that Jemma breathes in relief. Maybe she hasn’t completely ruined everything.

 

“I may not have a Ph.D. in psychology, but even I understand that as a result of everything that happened, I’m experiencing symptoms of PTSD.”

 

Fitz pulls back to search her face, brows furrowed. “You are? How bad is it?”

 

The concern warms her heart, and she smiles, taking his hand that she still in her grasp and kissing the knuckles. “Don’t worry. It’s not a serious case. It’s treatable and something that will just take time. I just need time to adjust. That’s why I don’t want to rush into anything until I’ve dealt with all of that.”

 

“I understand.” Fitz nods and smiles at her with his bright eyes - eyes that made her fall for him so long ago without her even realizing. “And don’t worry, I’ll keep my distance for however long you need to heal.”

 

Jemma tilts her head to the side. “What do you mean?”

 

“Well, you said you need space, right? That’s what I’m saying. Don’t worry about me. I’ll give you as much space as you need. I’ll keep my distance for however long you feel you need to take to get better.”

 

“What? No. I didn’t mean that I wanted _you_ to keep your distance.”

 

“Oh?” His face perks up at her words.

 

“Fitz, you’re so silly. Of course, I don’t need you to keep your distance. I need you to be my best friend for right now. You know, the comfortable always-there lab partner who I can rely on to get me through anything.”

 

Smiling in relief Fitz envelops her in a hug and says, “Well, I can certainly do that.”

 

“It’s just that…” Jemma leans her head against his shoulder. “I love you, but I don’t want us to start…this before I’m better. I don’t want to rush this and mess it up and somehow ruin it. Does that make sense?” She trails off, uncertainty in her voice.

 

“Hey, look at me.” He gently tilts her chin up and smiles. “I understand, you don’t have to explain yourself. I’ll be whatever you need me to be until you feel ready to take the next step. And only _if_ you feel ready.”

 

Jemma tears up. “Thank you. Thank you for always knowing the right thing to say.”

 

*****

_Three months later_

Looking at herself in the mirror, Jemma runs a hand through her hair in a nervous tick, trying to flatten each stray end.

 

“You got this, Jemma,” she says to herself.

 

Opening the door and striding through the hall, she can’t help but smile at how familiar this feels to three months ago when she was walking through the exact same halls to talk to Fitz, with the same butterflies swarming in her stomach. Except that this time, when she reaches the labs, he’s already there. Hunched over a new design for a project he’s working on for Coulson, Fitz doesn’t even see Jemma as she approaches.

 

“Fitz,” she calls out to him; there’s a giddiness buzzing all through as she steps closer to him.

 

“Huh?” Fitz looks up; forehead scrunched up in focus from his work. When he notices her, his face lights up for a moment before he once again returns to the materials on the table, the frown back on his face. “Jemma. I’m glad you’re here. I need your input on this. Coulson wants this done by today. And I told him it was impossible, but he won’t listen.”

 

“Fitz,” Jemma repeats. The last thing on her mind right now is work.

 

She repeats his name, this time with more assertiveness, “Fitz. I’m ready.” Jemma doesn’t know why today of all days she woke up with a feeling of, _It’s time. I’m ready now_. But she did, and now she hasn’t been able to stop thinking about it all day.

 

“Hmm? Ready? Ready for what.”

 

When Jemma just continuous looking at him with a shy but excited smile, his head suddenly snaps up, and he jerks up out of his seat; there’s a clang as it unceremoniously falls over. “Oh. You’re ready, ready? As in…”

 

Nodding, Jemma gives a happy and breathtaking laugh. “Oh, Fitz, we’ve waited long enough wouldn’t you say.” 

 

“Are you sure?” Fitz whispers, eyes searching hers, as he slowly starts making his way towards her across the room.

 

“Absolutely,” Jemma says, meeting him halfway and curling her hand around his neck to gently pulls him towards her. It’s a tender kiss - not as passion-fueled as their first, but just as magical because it’s a promise of a lifetime of more to come.

 

When they brake apart for breath, Fitz leans his forehead against hers and says, “I’ve waited three months to tell you this: I love you, too.”


End file.
